B8 - Chapter 36: The Unpredictable Blade

"Our next target will be..."

Zeke's finger slid across the eastern reaches, past Thalebrook, past Gwyrel Ford, and past a dozen more settlements before stopping deep within the inland.

"...This."

Linus and Morris, standing to his left, both leaned closer to see the exact point he had chosen. Their expressions shifted the moment they recognized it.

"This... young lord, that is a Legion stronghold," Linus pointed out carefully.

"I am well aware," Zeke said, leaning back in his chair.

"Wouldn't it be easier to face them on the open field? Preferably with ally support?"

"It would be, yes."

"...Then why are we not doing that?"

"Because it is the obvious move. It is what the enemy expects us to do. I have no doubt they have already reinforced every position in our path."

He pointed at two locations on the map, each marked with a red cross. "These are where our nearest allies launched their attacks. The Bloodletter forces to the north, and House Cairnwyck to the southwest."

The northern strike, led by the troops of House Bloodletter, had hit a forest sanctuary similar to the one he had raided.

The southwestern attack had been an ambush, where the Flesh Mages of House Cairnwyck infiltrated the enemy camp and eradicated key targets in their sleep. An Archmage had been among the dead.

"Both their initial raids were effective. However..." His finger slid from the northern position to a nearby outpost. "The Bloodletter forces did not make it far before being stalled. They are still bogged down even now. Same for the Flesh Mages. Their two following infiltrations failed, and they suffered casualties." 

Zeke looked up from the map, meeting the eyes of his two captains. "The Empire's reaction speed is even faster than expected. In a matter of days, they managed to locate, assess, and counter both forces, effectively neutralizing them."

He shook his head. It was hard to put into words how impressive that truly was. The Empire moved as if guided by a Mind Spirit of its own, directing the actions of every Legion in perfect harmony. If this was the power of their mental network, it was no wonder they were such a dominant force.

In war, information was everything, and the Empire excelled not only at distributing it, but also at acting on it with terrifying efficiency.

Even after being caught completely off guard by the sudden involvement of so many new factions, it had taken only a single battle for the Empire to adapt.

Against the Blood Mages, they used rapid air raids to slow their march, forcing them to advance at a snail's pace while staying constantly on guard. It exhausted their troops and impeded their progress while exposing the Empire to almost no risk. All achieved simply by exploiting the superior range and mobility of their forces.

Against the Flesh Mages, they had developed countermeasures practically overnight, preventing further infiltrations. Such a swift response would have been impossible under normal circumstances. Only multiple minds working in perfect tandem could have devised and implemented solutions at such speed.

"...Terrifying."

The word escaped him before he could stop it, but he did not regret saying it. It was the simple truth.

Zeke pointed at the two or three targets closest to their initial attack. "I do not know what waits for us there, but it would be foolish to assume the Empire has not prepared a countermeasure for us as well. That is why we must move as unpredictably as possible."

"...If the Legion is that terrifying, what makes you so sure they will not predict this move too?" David asked, stepping closer to the table.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes serious. None of the casual confidence he had shown before the first battle remained. His fight against Baldwin Feuerkranz had shattered much of his certainty. Too much, perhaps. 

But that was to be expected. 

Like any Mage after advancing, David needed time to adjust to his new power. Excessive confidence would be humbled, while too much caution would hinder him. With time and more battles, he would find the right balance.

"...Because they lack the means to predict it," Zeke said. "Unlike our allies, I expected the Empire to use every shred of information available. That is why I killed their commander before our forces arrived."

David's eyes brightened for a moment, only to dim again. "Impressive, young lord, but would they not have learned much from the traces left behind as well?"

Zeke nodded. "It is possible. But even so, there is one element they could not have learned." He gestured toward the room around them. "The Alexandria has never landed, nor has it left any trace behind. It is simply impossible for them to know the exact capabilities of this ship."

David did not seem convinced. "Young lord... the Wraiths have been active on the front for quite some time now. Wouldn't it be foolish to assume the Empire would not connect the two?"

Zeke grinned. "That would be foolish indeed."

This time, not only David but the rest of his commanders looked confused. The only exceptions were Zelkara, who did not seem to care either way, and Leo, who looked completely lost.

"What is the Wraith?"

Zeke turned to his brother. "It is the ship I developed to assist in the war against the Empire. Just like the Alexandria, it uses the new subspace engine and the light-bending arrays that allow it to turn invisible."

Leo looked from Zeke to David and then back to Zeke, his confusion growing. "So... erm... huh?" His mouth opened, closed, then opened again with an actual question. "Why would you assume they do not know what we can do if they have already seen it?"

"...Have they?" Zeke asked. "The Wraith is a fast, lightweight transporter, and they will naturally assume the Alexandria is the same thing, only larger. After all, that is what you all think as well."

David's brows drew together. "It is not?"

He glanced toward the captains who commanded the vessel, but neither Linus nor Morris had any answers. They looked at Zeke, just as lost.

"...Is it not?"

Zeke shook his head. "The Alexandria was never meant to be a transport vessel. Nor is she a traditional warship."

"Then what is she?" Leo asked.

Zeke leaned back, fingers drumming lightly against the armrests as he met the expectant gazes of his commanders. He allowed the silence to stretch a moment longer before answering.

"She is a Battlecarrier, built to siege fortresses and hold land."

"...Siege?" Morris echoed. "I was not made aware of such capabilities, lord."

Zeke nodded. "Of course not. We have been running the ship on a skeleton crew ever since we set off. How would we power the shields and interceptors if we needed double shifts just to stay airborne?"

"But..." David began, then stopped. "...The rescued elves?"

Zeke nodded. "Exactly. There are a few dozen Mages among them, more than doubling our output."

Silence settled over the room as everyone absorbed the revelation.

"Tell me, David," Zeke said after a moment. "Do you think the Legion can predict this?"

"...That's impossible, young lord," David replied. "How could they predict what they do not know?"

Zeke shook his head slowly, a wide grin spreading across his face. "That is just it. The Empire's greatest strength is also its greatest weakness."

"In what way?"

"Prediction is a gamble," Zeke said. He picked up a short dagger that served as a paperweight and slid his fingers along one edge. "Just like a blade. If you guess right, it hurts your enemy," He slid his finger along the opposite edge, "but if you guess wrong, it hurts only yourself."

With a sharp motion, he slammed the dagger into the table, its tip piercing the exact spot he had marked as their next target.

"...Take a closer look."

David leaned in, reading the name written there. Beneath the town’s original name, the Empire’s new designation appeared.

Labour Camp #73

David's eyes widened as understanding dawned on him.

Their next target was a prison. Not only because the Empire would never expect such a bold move, but because such a place held the greatest potential recruits. Who would be imprisoned instead of executed? Mages. Powerful Mages.

So what if the Empire learned the Alexandria's capabilities during the attack?

By the time they saw her again, the ship would have been reinforced with so much new blood that it would be unrecognizable. The only true limit was how quickly Zeke could scale its systems. And with Akasha working tirelessly to meet those needs, that limit would not pose a problem anytime soon.

Compared to the Empire's mental network, Zeke had one overwhelming advantage. His mental capability was concentrated in one place. Akasha was bound to him. He could use the full extent of her processing not only for analysis but for actual execution.

She could adapt the ship in real time. She could meet any requirement. As long as they had the Mana to fuel it, she could create a fortress unlike anything the world had ever seen. Resources were the only remaining constraint, but Zeke had already prepared for that.

The World Anchor was filled to the brim with precious materials, millions of gold worth of everything needed to expand the ship in any direction. And mundane resources posed even less of a problem; the Anchor could produce anything that did not require Mana in limitless quantities.

No. For Zeke, the true objective of this early campaign was to amass as many survivors as possible before the Empire realized what he was doing. By then, he would have enough manpower to become unstoppable.

Let them try to predict his next move while he continued to surpass every expectation. There was no worse enemy for an analytical mind than the incomprehensible, something that changed every time you encountered it, growing in strength and capability without pattern or limit.

But to achieve that, he needed to move quickly. With every passing moment, the chance of finding elven survivors grew slimmer. He did not know exactly what the Empire was doing inside those camps, but it was not hard to guess that their ultimate goal was to turn the captured Mages into puppets.

Such a deep invasion of the mind could not be completed in a day or two, but that was little comfort. Continuous damage to the prisoners' psyche would eventually reduce them to mere flesh suits. There was likely no coming back from that, even if he managed to take the fortress.

It was, in many ways, a fate worse than death. Trapped within their own bodies while an alien will controlled everything... He shuddered at the thought.

Zeke's gaze hardened. Despite his callous words to Lady Rowael, if he had the chance, he would save as many natives as possible. The atrocities committed by the Ehrenlegion were enough to unsettle even his hardened stomach. He had simply not wanted her to use their suffering as a tool to manipulate him.

That did not mean he did not care. It had not been so long ago that he, too, had dreamed of becoming the kind of hero who would save the oppressed half-elves from their cruel fate. But life was seldom so kind, seldom so simple.

His eyes moved across the eager faces of his followers, the people who had sworn loyalty to him. The people whose lives he was responsible for.

A tired sigh escaped him. He would do what he could. Save as many as he could. But not at the cost of their lives.

"Tonight, we will offload any of the rescued elves who do not agree to my terms. By morning, we begin the siege."